


Gift Box

by smalltrolven



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Angsty Schmoop, Confined/Caged, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, One True Pairing, Schmoop, True Love, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:38:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smalltrolven/pseuds/smalltrolven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are stuck, really stuck. They’ll have to rely on each other as they never have before to figure their way out of the box they seem to have found themselves trapped in. The biggest complication is that Sam’s got new vision powers and can see their future, together.  Like together together. (Set right after 7.07)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift Box

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the samdean-otp Sam & Dean Mini-Bang 2012, thanks to the awesome mods running the challenge. Kudos and huzzahs to my wonderful beta stella-lost who helped me tremendously with this story. Many praises and thanks to the artist, colls, who chose this story and gave me encouragement and made such great art to go along with it, go check it all out at her lj.

Dean slowly awakens with the sound of Sam’s low, throaty giggle in his ears. Wait _. A giggle? From Sam?_

He cracks one eye open and registers the utter darkness they’re in, save one far away dim reddish light.  He can feel Sam is close. Very close. Like not as close as they’ve been in many years, maybe since they were littles sharing one of a series of never-ending uncomfortable motel beds.  Sam is pressed up against his back, giant arm banding him tight around his chest.  Other hand petting through his hair.  This brings him fully awake abruptly. Petting his hair?

“Sam whatareyoudoing?” He grumbles out in a harsh indignant huff. 

Sam’s answer is a low rumbly chuckle that he feels vibrate through to his own ribcage.  “Sssh Dean. I’m just dreaming this.” 

Dean tries to sit up but hits his head on something hard and unforgiving and splintery.  “Shit, where the hell are we anyways?”

Sam’s no longer chuckling or giggling, his breath sounds like it is being stopped on purpose so that he can really listen. After listening, he finally gathers in one large inhale and blows it out in a big whoosh that tickles the hair on the back of Dean’s head.  “I don’t think we’re in our motel room anymore.” 

Dean snorts derisively as he’s expected to, “Way to go college boy, glad you’re here to tell me what’s what.” 

A mock insulted huff from Sam again moves Dean’s hair in a warm yet not unpleasant way.  “Fine Dean, then you enlighten me, what’ve you figured out?” 

Dean tries to shrug and circle his shoulders which brings him more fully in contact with Sam’s chest, his firm, unyielding chest that seems to be taking up all of the room so that he can barely breathe now.  There’s just no room in here, wood on one side, Sam on the other, wood below, wood above.  Trapped, again, like the time he came awake in his coffin and had to claw his way out.  Those were the longest minutes of his life, the source of many many nightmares over the subsequent years.  He can feel his breath coming faster and shallower, his heart trip-hammering in his chest, the panic spiral starting up.  The red light seems to expand, and flashbacks of his time in Hell start flooding in, the unrelenting noise of the screams, the inexhaustible stench of blood, the only reality the unending pain.  Once it starts he can’t stop it, fully immersed back in his sense memories of the pit.  Alastair’s sickly grin looms close in his memory and the horrific pleasure he’d derived from learning the torture skills from the master coils deep in his belly, reawakening that lust for praise for doing his job well.

Sam hears his brother’s breathing getting more and more panicky, guessing that Dean is stuck in one of his Hell memories, just like the year after he’d gotten out of the Pit.  So Sam squeezes him harder and pats his head more firmly, “Hey now, not the time or place for a panic attack, you just breathe with me Dean.”  Sam moves his hand up to Dean’s chest, over his tattoo, and rubs what he hopes is a comforting circle, keeping his voice calm yet insistent.  “In and out, in and out, breathe with me, there you go, I can feel your heart rate going down, you okay now?” 

Finally the comfort of Sam’s touch and the cadence and tone of his words get through the wall of memories holding him down.  Dean sighs loudly and leans back into Sam, releasing all the held too tight muscles and relaxing as much as he can.  “Yeah, um, thanks Sam for stopping me before I got too wound up.”  Dean can feel Sam’s smile in his hair, _wait in his hair,_ _what is he kissing my head?_   

“No problem, I need you here with me to figure this out, not passed out and getting in the way.” 

Dean starts trying to move his arms out of Sam’s embrace. “I can’t move enough, you’ve got me pinned by your long-ass arms.  Is there room for you, can you reach in my back pocket, see if my cell phone is still in there?”

Sam has just enough room to move his hand down from Dean’s chest to the back pocket on Dean’s jeans, and works his long fingers in the edge of the pocket, pinching out the small phone.  “Here got it. Shit, no reception of course.  But at least we can use this for light until the battery runs out.  Let me try mine.”

Sam reaches down to feel in his own pocket, gripping the phone between his fingers and slowly bringing it up so he can reach the right key and see the screen, “Yeah, no reception for me either.  Well, we’ll save mine for later.”  


“So where the hell are we anyways, and who put us in here?  What all do we have, just you me, our clothes and our phones right?  I got my lock picks that are hidden but those won’t help.  You don’t happen to have a knife on you?” Dean turns his head a little to catch Sam’s eye in the dim red light, wishing Sam had turned on one of the cell phones already, because he can’t see and something about the redness of it makes it hard to think of  anything else but Hell.  But he doesn’t insist, because he was already a wuss about having a damned panic attack already, Sam doesn’t need to see him lose it completely while they’re stuck in here.

“Nope, nothing.  Just some change in my pocket.  At least it seems like there is an air source so we don’t have to worry about suffocating.”  Sam answers trying to sound as reassuring as possible, not wanting to set off another panic attack.

Dean all of a sudden pushes back hard into Sam, slamming him into the wall of the box and kicks out viciously with his feet.  The box doesn’t budge at all.  Sam yells in surprise, “Damn it Dean! You could have warned me you were going to do that!”

“Hey I just thought it might work.  Sorry Princess Samantha, didn’t think about how I was going to hit back into your delicate body. Uh, you okay?”

“Yeah, it just surprised me is all.  Think we should bother yelling for help?”

“Naw, I don’t think that would do anything.  So, let’s work this like any case, what do we know, or I suppose what do we last remember?”  Dean asks with as much bravado as he can manage after his recent near-miss meltdown.

Sam hears the waver in his brother’s voice and speaks as calmly as he can, continuing with pressing the calming circles over Dean’s heart. “Well, I remember we were done eating our takeout Chinese, just getting set up in our motel room in Sparks, Nevada, after we’d driven non-stop from Lilydale.”

Dean tries to squirm away from Sam’s embrace at the mention of Lilydale, thinking of that uncomfortable car ride when Sam had just come back to him after their big fight.  But of course, there’s nowhere to squirm away to, so he just rests there and tries to relax in Sam’s arms.

Not sure why Dean’s moving around so much and tensing up, Sam gets the feeling  that painting a picture of his memory will help Dean calm down, so he continues in the same calm voice, “Remember the food was really greasy; you were laughing about the pork buns soaking through the container onto my jacket.”

At the memory of the soggy, greasy pork buns, Dean forgets where he is for a moment and chuckles, “c’mon Sammy, that was funny, you were so mad at me for laughing, but the carton made that big wet spot, I couldn’t help it, even if you were bitch-facing all over the place.”

Hearing his brother’s relaxed chuckling tells Sam he’s on the right track with being detailed with the story “Yeah and you can’t help it now apparently and I was not bitch-facing.  After all your helpful laughing, I remember I went in the bathroom, took some Tums, brushed my teeth, got into bed and fell asleep.”

Sam moves one of his hands down to Dean’s hip and taps his finger slowly against Dean’s waistband , emphasizing each detail, hoping the physical sensation will help keep him from falling back into the state of panic, “You had the TV on to some action movie, something with the Governator, and you were drinking your third whisky of the evening. Then I woke up smashed together in here with you after having a really nice dream.” 

Dean’s relaxed now after hearing Sam’s calm voice and picturing that no-doubt very far away motel room, and the sensation of his finger  tapping on his waistband isn’t so much annoying as strangely comforting, like Sam’s hands always feel on his body, “So now you’re counting my drinks, Sam?  Awesome.  What were you dreaming about anyways? You were honest to god giggling, not to mention squeezing me and petting my hair!  That’s what woke me up in the first place.”

Sam hesitates to answer and moves his hand back up to rest with the other one over Dean’s heart, and sighs heavily.  Before he can even ask what the sighing is about, Dean can feel him smile into his shoulder this time,” I was dreaming the future Dean.”

This time Dean hesitates, because Sam’s dreams haven’t always been just plain dreams, so he asks cautiously, “What, like a regular dream or one of your visions?”

Sam doesn’t say anything, but Dean feels his brother’s body go completely rigid, as if he’s now lying there in the arms of a Sam carved out of marble, even his skin feels colder to the touch, then Dean hears Sam whisper hoarsely as if he’s been arguing for hours, “Of course Dean’s not going to understand me!  He won’t want to hear all of this.  And I can’t do that to him.”  Sam pauses in his rant as if he’s listening to someone’s answer. “No, I won’t do it, I can’t tell him that, you can’t make me.”

Dean realizes with a sickening swoop in his belly that Sam’s hallucinating Lucifer, awesome, such great timing, because he can’t even see much in this dim red light, since Sam never turned on one of the cell phones.  Which he can’t reach.  So Dean does the only thing that he knows might work and slowly wriggles his hand up to get to hold of Sam’s which are folded together up near Dean’s heart.  He reaches for Sam’s formerly cut up hand.  The one he’d stitched up himself, and made bleed when Sam was waving the gun around and yelling at both he and Lucifer.  The hand that has the scar that Sam keeps touching all the time, to keep himself grounded in reality. 

Dean feels the hard raised flesh on Sam’s palm gently at first, then begins pushing in sharply, deeply, and he yells to get Sam’s attention back to the here and now Lucifer-free box that they’re in,  “Sammy, hey Sammy!  Come back to me, right now!”

He can feel Sam come back into his body, the marble ridged muscles turning into the still-firm but now human feeling body surrounding him.  “Sam, you okay now?”  He asks quietly, hoping with everything he’s got that his brother is really back here with him now, because he knows there’s nothing else he can do. 

“Yeah, uh, I’m good now.”  Sam’s so upset with himself for checking out like that on Dean, especially now, when they’re stuck.  And especially just as he was about to try and tell Dean about his vision of the future.

“Sam can you turn on the cell phone light now?”

“Sure, thought I’d done that already.”

“Nope, you were about to when you started talking to someone else.”

“Sorry ‘bout that.”  Sam moves one hand up and pushes the right combination of buttons and the soft bluish glow of the cell phone lights up the small space.  They can see their hands, and see that they are indeed inside a solid wooden box.

Dean cranes his head around so he can just barely catch Sam’s eye, “Sam, its okay.  This is an unusual situation, shit’s gonna happen, hell I already had a near melt-down in here that you stopped.”

“I know it’s just…I know it’s really bad for you when I do that, I wish I could stop it, stop him.” Sam trails off, knowing that he can’t make Dean understand this.

“Hey, would you just cut it out? You were talking to someone about how you couldn’t tell me about something, that I wouldn’t understand, that you couldn’t do that to me.  It sounded pretty important. Do you remember what it was Sam?”

“Yeah, I do, but he was right.” Sam mumbles, not wanting to continue this conversation because he knows in his heart Lucifer is right, that Dean needs to hear it, what his vision of their future is.

“Who was right?” Dean asks, stomach sinking even lower, knowing the answer before he even hears Sam’s reply.

“Lucifer.” Sam whispers, sounding utterly defeated and so very very small. The name hangs in the small space, vibrating and practically visible to both of them, symbol of everything that’s gone wrong in their lives.

Dean squeezes both of Sam’s hands as hard as he can, to break him out of falling back into a hallucination, “Sam, I don’t care what he’s telling you, you’ve gotta trust me.  I swear you can tell me anything.  Don’t believe him Sam.  You gotta believe me.  I’m what’s real remember? Stone number one and all that.”  Dean grips Sam’s scarred hand once again hard, hearing Sam’s quickly indrawn breath he lets up the pressure and strokes his thumb back and forth on the raised mark soothingly.

“Yeah, alright Dean.” Sam thinks to himself that Lucifer is probably more right than Dean can imagine, but that he’s about to find out who really is correct, because he knows Dean won’t stop asking about his dream since it was the trigger to his hallucination.

“Good, glad we got that settled.  How about you just finish telling me about your dream.”

“Well, it wasn’t a dream, I know I said I was dreaming the future right?  But it wasn’t just a dream, it was something else.  I’d compare it to the visions like I used to get, but this time it wasn’t about someone dying.  I haven’t had one of those in years, not since we killed Azazel.  This time it was a good dream, about what’s to come, in the future for us.”

“What do you mean us? Like you and me?”

“Well, specifically you and me, uh, together.” Sam says a bit hesitantly.

“Together, together?” Dean kind of squeaks in surprise, because _whatthehell!?_

“Um, yeah, together, together.  And this wasn’t just a dream or a fantasy either, because of how it felt as I was seeing it.  It’s hard to explain how it’s different, just there’s more to it than just a dream, more substance or something,  and oh crap, now I’m getting one of those post-vision headaches.”  Sam tries to curl in on himself, but there just isn’t room enough for him to move much at all.  His head is curled into the top of Dean’s shoulder.

“Shit,  I don’t know how to help you. We don’t have a med kit or water or anything.”

“Huh, that’s what you’re worried about Dean? Not what I saw?”

Dean wishes more than anything he could sock Sam in the shoulder, “Of course I’m more worried about your pain than some freaky-assed vision.  At least for now anyways.  Here can you turn over and I will too.  Then I can rub your neck, sometimes that helps your headaches right?”   They slowly take turns moving a little bit at time until eventually Dean is plastered against Sam’s back.  He pushes back as far as he can to get a bit more room to work on Sam’s shoulders. 

“Geez if you weren’t so huge now there’d be more room to work on these monster muscles of yours.”

Sam chuckles softly,” I hadn’t thought you’d noticed Dean.”

Dean digs his fingers in deeply and sighs his agreement, “Kinda hard to miss Sasquatch.  Especially when you were Robo-Sam strutting around without a shirt all the time.  How’s that feel Sammy, any better yet?”  Dean softly scratches one hand through the back of Sam’s hair.  

Sam closes his eyes, rolls his shoulders and leans his head back into Dean’s hand. Making a contented almost purring happy sound. “Yeah, Dean thanks, feels really good.” _(pleasedontevereverstop)_

“How come you’re dreaming of the future all of a sudden now?  You never did before unless it was about someone dying and connected to Azazel somehow right?”

Sam shrugs, “No, I never did.  I figure it has something to do with the soul-reintegration.  Since some parts of me were old, from when I had the powers, some of it must have come back to me.”

“The soul what?”  Dean asks, knowing that this will be something he probably doesn’t really want to know.

Sam shrugs again, a little sheepishly this time, “Oh, I guess I didn’t ever talk to you about this.  It’s kind of a long story.”

Continuing scratching through Sam’s hair, Dean replies in his best patient, big-brother tone, “Sam, we’ve got nothin’ but time stuck in here, and I see no way out for now, so go ahead, I’m all ears.”

“I guess I collapsed when Cas brought down my wall, and you and Bobby brought me back to the panic room, right?” Sam asks quickly as a way of stopping Dean from getting exasperated with him.

“Yeah, you were just gone Sam, it was like you weren’t there, it wasn’t like those other times when you had those seizure things when the Wall was still up.  That’s why it was so hard to leave you.  One of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.” Dean’s voice trails off towards the end, as a sudden wash of emotion at the memory overtakes him.  He reaches around Sam’s waist and squeezes him tight.

Sam reaches one hand over to hold tight to the one Dean’s just hugged him with, and says firmly, trying to return the emotion that he heard in Dean’s voice, “I’m glad you did, you had to get to Cas, to try to stop him, I understand.  I wouldn’t have been able to help anyways.  And there wasn’t anything you could have done to help me.”

Shaking his head against Sam’s back in frustration that he’s not getting this, what it meant to be on the edge of losing his little brother all over again and says more firmly this time, “I know all that.  But Sam, I really thought you were going to die. And I wouldn’t have even been there.  I mean I hoped you’d snap out of it on your own, but I really didn’t think we’d see each other alive again.”

Feeling more than hearing Dean’s fear in the memory of that night makes Sam reach for Dean’s hand to squeeze it reassuringly, “Shit, that must have been hard to do Dean.  But hey it worked out.”

Dean swallows audibly against the sudden lump in his throat, “Yeah, it did thank God.”

“So you still want to hear about the soul reintegration thing?” Sam asks gently.

“You know it.”  Dean goes back to rubbing Sam’s shoulders, feeling the knots in the muscles give way under his probing strong fingers. 

“Well that’s just what I’m calling what happened, in my mind after the Wall was brought down.” Sam says, a small hesitation in his voice as he remembers the whole awful experience, being trapped in his mind for hours, fighting against himself, trying with all his might to get back to Dean.

“Happened in your mind, what do you mean?” Dean asks, stilling his hands, wanting to make sure he really understands what Sam’s telling him, because he can tell this is important by the set of Sam’s shoulders and the catch he hears in his voice.

Taking a deep breath, Sam just spills it all out quickly, “Well, the best way to describe it, I was fighting myself in my own mind, I was split up three ways, Me, the Sam who’d been soul-less and the Sam who’d lived through Hell.  And I had to battle to take on the memories from the other two.  Soul-less me was the hardest, but the Sam from Hell was the worst, he told me not to do it, not to take the Hell memories back, that I wouldn’t survive.  He told me to stay there in my mind and go find Jess and make a life with her in there, inside my mind.”

Blowing out the breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding the whole time Sam had been speaking, Dean ends up asking a little breathlessly, “Jesus, really?  Why didn’t you do it Sam? Maybe you could have been happy in there. It’s been so hard for you with the hallucinations and I know you’re not even telling me half of what you’re dealing with. So why did you take on the Hell memories like that?”

Sam’s shoulders slump at Dean’s question, because of course Dean wouldn’t ever guess this, “Well, like I told the Sam who remembered the Cage, that he knew me, he’d know why.”

“Why?” Dean asks, hoping he knows the answer, but not wanting to assume he’s right.

“Because I couldn’t leave you out there in the real world alone Dean.  I knew you needed me and I needed to be with you.” Sam answers, suddenly wishing that he could see Dean’s reaction to this outright emotional statement, they’re veering close to the always volatile chick-flick territory.

Dean’s so glad that Sam can’t see his face right now, because it’s burning with a hot blush from hearing this admission from his brother, “Well you got that right.   But shit Sam, was it really worth it?  Now that you have to live on the run from Leviathans and hallucinating Lucifer all the time.”

Sam doesn’t say anything, because he can’t.  He instead begins turning himself slowly so that he can be face to face with Dean who catches on and cooperates by moving back as far as he can to give Sam as much room as he can.  Once he’s able to, Sam looks Dean straight in the eye and asks with barely constrained frustration at his brother’s endless parade of low self-worth.  “Do you really have to ask me that Dean?”

“Yeah, sure I do.” Dean says as defiantly as he can manage under Sam’s withering gaze.

Sam continues his intense searching into his defiant brother’s eyes as well as he can in the dimness, “ ** _God_**.  I can’t even believe you sometimes Dean.  **_Of course_** it was worth it you idiot.  At least it is to me.  I don’t know about you though, I know I’m a burden and not much help these days.”

Breaking their staring contest, Dean shakes his head and looks down at their hands barely touching in the dimness, “Now who’s the idiot? Not what I meant Sam.  Not at all.  Of course it’s worth it, you think I’d rather have a comatose brother to look after?  I just meant, doing that, taking on Hell just to be with me, doesn’t seem worth it.”

All of a sudden it’s too much for Sam, hearing this from his brother, so he decides to lay it all out there, maybe he’ll listen for once, he grabs both of Dean’s hands in his, holding on tight, “Dean, look at me goddamn it! You can’t really think so little of yourself.  **_You_**?  Not worth it?  Do you not by this point get what you mean to me?  Of course you’re worth it, why else do I ever do anything?  You’re worth everything to me.  You know that right?  I mean, I know you don’t like talking about shit like this, but seriously, Dean, it’s important that you really get that.  **_You are_** everything to me.”

Dean searches his brother’s face for any hint of teasing and sees that Sam’s dead serious, so he has no choice but to answer him honestly, “Alright, I get it Sam.  Same here, ditto whatever, and uh, thanks.  For doing that.”

“Doing what?” Sam asks, at a complete loss about what his brother is thanking him for.

Dean worms his arm around Sam so that he’s touching his back lightly, and hugs him gently, “Coming back like that, taking on Hell to be with me.”

Sam puts his arm around Dean in a similar way and squeezes him right back, “You’re welcome.  Thanks for dying for me and confronting Death to get my soul back.”

“Hah! You’re welcome bitch.  Thanks for jumping into the Cage to save the whole world.”  Dean hugs him back harder.

“Hilarious jerk! You’re welcome.  Thanks for killing Zachariah instead of saying “Yes” to Michael.”  Sam can’t help but laugh as he continues the hug war.

“Oh so very funny.  You’re welcome.  Thanks for not giving up on me, and us after we got back from Heaven.” Dean laughs too, as the breath is squished out of him.

“Ahem.  You’re welcome.  Thanks for selling your soul to bring me back to life.” Sam says, a little too seriously into Dean’s ear, while holding him close.

“I think that’s enough.  And you’re welcome. God the list of things we’ve done for each other is getting a little long.” Dean sighs heavily, not regretting any of the things he’s done to save Sam, knowing he’d do it all again if he had to, and that Sam would too.

“It’s too much to think of all at once like that isn’t it?” Sam says softly, searching Dean’s face for clues to what he’s thinking about all this caring and sharing, expecting it to end at any second.  And just really damn glad that the cell phone is still lit up enough so that he can see the soft shy smile and how it changes Dean’s whole face into something new.

They’re both quiet for awhile, just caressing each other’s backs lightly, the enormous comfort in these small touches in the dim, enclosed space too precious and tentative to talk about.

“Hey Sam, what did you see for us in the future then?” Dean continues rubbing small circles over Sam’s shoulders.

Sam’s pretty sure Dean can’t tell that he’s blushing furiously at this point, at least he hopes so anyways,

“Um, promise you won’t get mad or hate me Dean? “ Sam moves his hands down to hold Dean around the waist, his hands on Dean’s lower back.

“Sam, geez, you even have to ask at this point?” He huffs and slaps Sam lightly on the back.

Sam takes a deep breath and closes his eyes to bring up the vision again so he can describe it in enough detail for Dean to be able to see what he saw.  Sam hides his face against the side of Dean’s face, speaking softly into the stubble rough skin, “Okay then, in my vision I saw us living in a small, nice little house near a lake in the mountains.  Might have been the Cascades, looked like that kind of forest.  You were older than you are now, maybe ten years older, and you had a big stripe of grey hair and a lot more wrinkles.  Me too, I was a lot older.  We were holding hands and walking back to our house after fishing, looked like two trout maybe?  I was giggling because the fish I was carrying was about twice the size of yours and you were grumbling about it.  Our house had a big porch with a swing and a vegetable garden in the back.  There was a short gravel driveway and I could see that the Impala was parked in a small garage barn that also had some goats and chickens.   Our house was really comfortable inside, a couple of squishy couches, fireplace, a nice flat screen TV, and a big open kitchen.  But you know what the best part was Dean?”

“What Sam?”( _pleasetellmeplease)_ Dean breathes out softly, completely wrapped up in picturing Sam’s vision.

Sam squirms so that his face is buried further into Dean’s neck too embarrassed to have the possibility for Dean to look him in the face, but with his arms still around Dean’s waist.  He whispers shyly, “Well, don’t kill me for this or anything, it was my vision telling me this stuff.  Um, the best part was our bedroom.  We had one enormous bed, finally a bed long enough for me, and it was so soft and comfortable, with actual nice new blue sheets and way too many pillows.  You had made the bed for us, and carved the headboard with S+D in a design that looked like our tattoos but with a heart inside the pentagram.”  

“Oh gawd Sammy, I can practically hear you blushing.”  Dean smoothes his hands down Sam’s back, and keeps talking in a quieter different sort of voice, one filled with an emotion Sam can’t remember hearing before, it sounds like a love long left unspoken, “But I really like how that sounds.  A whole lot actually.”

Sam’s breath hitches on a quiet sudden sob that Dean is surprised to hear, he rubs his brothers’ shoulders asking, “Hey, what’s up? Why are you crying, aren’t you happy? Damnit I wish I could see your face better right now.”

Sam hugs him tightly, surprising him with the suddenness and strength of the hug, finally raising his head up from Dean’s neck and looking him in the eyes again, “I am, I really am happy,   I just can’t believe you maybe are too. Finally.”

“What do you mean finally?”

“Well, all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy Dean, in whatever way you wanted it to be.”

“Me too Sam, duh, of course.  So what’s the big deal?”

“I guess it’s just that we haven’t ever talked about the future.”

“Never seemed to be much point, always saving each other or stopping the world from ending, kinda interrupted me from thinking too far into the future you know?” Dean shrugs, belatedly realizing that Sam thinks they should have been talking about this stuff all along.

“Have you ever even thought about your future, or our future?  I have, all the time, and I just never thought you’d want to be together with me like that and I’m happy now that I know you do.  At least that’s what I think you meant right _?”_ Sam practically holds his breath until he hears his brother’s answer to this crucial question because oh god, what if Dean hadn’t meant what Sam thought he heard him say. _(pleaseohpleaseyouwantthistoo_ ).

“Yeah, yeah that’s what I meant.”  He squeezes Sam closer in a full on hug, taking his turn to rest his head on Sam’s chest.   All these years of thinking he was alone in being so messed up, to finally know that Sam feels the same way is so freeing and beyond awesome.  “C’mon dude, duh! Whenever I did think of my future, it was our future.  Who else gets me or what I’ve been through like you?  Some chick I meet in a bar is never going to be able to understand all that full-on crazy shit our lives have been made up of. “

“Me too Dean.  Always. Never saw myself with anyone else.  You’re the only one that makes sense, that’s real to me.“ Sam hugs Dean even closer although that seemed impossible a minute ago.

“Sammy do you think this vision of yours will really happen or is it just a dream _?” (pleaselovemetooohplease)_ Dean asks hesitantly trying to hold the hope he feels swelling in him out of his voice and failing miserably.

“Yeah , it feels like a real true vision of what’s to come, one of the real  ones.   It’s different than the death omen dreams, it’s hard to explain, but I can feel it really deeply, not like a regular dream.   I saw so many details that rang true, yeah Dean I think it means it really will happen.  Hey, this is a good thing right?” Sam pulls back from the hug and gently tips Dean’s chin up with one finger so he can see Dean’s eyes.

Dean lets out an exasperated noisy breath and reaches for Sam’s hand, entwines it with his and pulls it to his lips, pressing gentle kisses to Sam’s palm.  He places their hands over his heart. “Definitely a good thing.    _The best thing_.  Now how exactly are we going to get out of here because I’m not seeing much of a future for us stuck in this box?  How else am I going to make you that girly bed anyways?”

Dean twists his head up slightly looking for some way of escape he might have missed before and his lips brush against Sam’s cheek.  They freeze for the barest of moments and then slowly seek each other’s warm lips.  They press together, just a dry friction, no tongue, a reassurance more than a kiss.  This is then the turning point, the entranceway to Sam’s vision.  Right here in this moment they both feel those dreams of the future inescapably interweaving, finally forming the right pattern.  After all these years of studious and fierce denial, their choice lies before them. 

Sam draws back and swallows loudly, “This is what you want right?  You’re not just kissing me out of guilt or pity?”

Dean smiles up at him, a half-lidded besotted look on his face, “Would you give that big brain of yours a rest and kiss me already.  Damn a guy could die waiting on you to finish thinking everything through.”

Dean closes his eyes and leans up waiting for a kiss he knows will be coming, but first he can hear Sam’s smile.  He would swear he can see it, even with his eyes closed, big white teeth and those cavernous dimples, the sparkling eyes.  He feels Sam lean down once again and this time it is no reassuring chaste kiss.  This is one for the record books like in that Princess Bride movie they both secretly love.  Not that he is the girl or anything, but damn this is the most romantic kiss he’s ever been a part of and damn now **_he’s_** thinking too much.  He throws himself fully into this kiss answering all of Sam’s unasked questions with all the passion and love and want and will he can muster. 

Sam gasps for breath after a while and shivers all over. “Wow, if you keep kissing me like that I don’t think I care too much anymore about getting out of here anytime soon.”

“Hmmmm, I guess it will help us pass the time until we figure something out. Just let me try this, I’ve always wanted to see what you tasted like here …” Dean kisses his way down Sam’s throat and back up to his ear, softly breathing and gently swirling his tongue around the outer shell, finally nipping and sucking on the tender skin just behind his ear.  Sam groans deeply and helplessly cants his hips forward aligning his hips with his brother’s, a grinding motion starting up between them.

“What. Um. Do you mean, always wanted to see?  Have you been thinking about this for long?” Sam asks as he takes a turn at kissing down Dean’s neck and back up to his ear, where he grabs onto his earlobe with his teeth biting and pulling gently. 

Dean shivers all over and groans out “Been thinking about it for way too long. Embarrassing really.  But yeah, I have been.” 

Sam continues to bite and lick Dean’s neck, “How long ago did you first think about it? I just want to know if it goes back as far for you as it does for me.” 

Dean sighs, groans, and pushes forward with his hips trapping Sam between the wood and his steadily thickening cock, with little hip thrusts he starts up a rhythm that Sam opens up his legs as much as he’s able to, in order to appreciate it even more.  It’s so unfair that Sam’s asking him to talk about this stuff at a time like this, but he’s going to just go all in here, no more purpose in holding back from the honesty his brother seems to need right now.

  “I can’t believe you want to do this right now, but fine, it started for me the year before you left for Stanford.  All of a sudden I noticed you’d turned into a man while I wasn’t paying attention or something.  I couldn’t be around you without having these thoughts and urges and that was why I started not hanging out with you so much.  I couldn’t do that to you, I couldn’t mess you up even more.  I could tell you wanted to leave the life, and leave me, so I didn’t want to start something with you, wouldn’t have been much point, right? But when I came back and got you to look for Dad, it was even worse, because you’d grown up so much and weren’t just my little Sammy anymore.  It’s been a hard (hah!) few years being together with you, looking and not touching, seeing you be with other people.” 

Sam leans down and kisses him on the cheeks and the eyelids and finally brushes his lips softly, embraces him tightly and begins rubbing his hands up and down his lower back to the beginning of the curve of his ass.  “All this time, all you ever had to do was ask.  That was a big reason why I left for Stanford, I felt so much for you, and I knew it was screwed up, but I couldn’t stop wanting you.  Leaving was like cutting out half my heart, I never felt right without you.  I tried so hard to figure out another life so you wouldn’t ever have to know about your sick little brother.  But it didn’t work, I loved Jess, as much as I could, but you were always there between us.  Always Dean.  And when you came back for me, it was a hundred times worse because I could make that comparison.  You’ve always been it for me.  And watching you these six years now with all those other people has been so hard, but I’m stubborn and now I’m definitely delusional at least part of the time, so I’ve been waiting for you to figure it out.”

Dean swats him on the ass “Why didn’t you just say something? We could’ve been together all this time.  Maybe it all would have turned out differently.” 

Sam swats him back a good one “Oh I think the selling your soul for me, going to hell and heaven and back again and fighting against Lucifer and going into the cage and out again would have all happened.  Besides we beat the angels and demons with the power of our love you know .” 

“Wait, what do you mean?“  Dean worms both his hands onto Sam’s chest and begins stroking his torso up over his ribs, circling and pinching his nipples through his shirts.  Dipping back down to try and raise them up, Sam lifts up so that they can be shoved up into his armpits, Dean feels the warm skin of his brother finally, the way he’s always wanted, not when he’s having to stitch him up or reset his arm back into the socket, warm and soft and real and true under his hands like he’s always needed it to be.

“When Lucifer was beating you to death, the thing that let me get control finally was all the memories of our life that were bound up in the Impala.  It was the damndest thing, you know that army man that’s stuck in the ashtray in the back seat? It caught my eye and this cascade of our greatest hits just flew through me and blasted his control away.  You and me brother, and how we’ve been together all our lives was what saved the world.  It’s as simple as that.” 

Sam reaches down and captures Dean’s face turning it up for another soul filling kiss, as deep as those past memories go, the well of desire for this in the now, in the present, is so strong it would have knocked him over if he hadn’t been lying down.  Getting to finally kiss his brother like this is such a gift, so moving and overwhelming and he wishes he could get inside Sam’s skin to feel him even closer.

Dean moves his hands down off Sam’s chest between their groins and begins stroking his brother’s hard length through his jeans, Sam groans into his mouth and kisses him harder, more passionately, the wanton movement of his hips increasing.  “Why didn’t you ever tell me this, how you won? Don’t you think I would’ve wanted to know that?” 

Catching his breath, but still pressing and moving into his brother’s grip, he tries to answer as clearly as he can, “Sorry, something about having no soul made me forget I guess, and then we were onto everything else and you never asked and I thought I’d just keep it to myself, for myself.  But I’m glad you know now, it feels even more important that you understand what you mean to me, what **_we_** **_mean_**.”

Dean can’t help but smile to hear that they really are on the same page, “Well, I’m glad I finally know it now.  It makes what Ash said make more sense.”

“You mean the soul-mate thing?” Sam asks, hoping that’s what Dean’s talking about, but honestly more interested in trying to find as many places on Dean as possible that will make him shiver and groan like that.  He already can’t get enough of hearing him make those noises.

“Yeah, the soul-mate thing.  Guess it’s really true.” Dean answers, knowing that’s the last thing he’ll be able to say that makes any sense because everything feels too good and too right and he wants to concentrate on giving Sam as much pleasure as they can manage in this damn box.

“Yes, oh oh, yes, guh” Sam can’t complete a coherent sentence because of how overwhelmingly good it all feels, touching Dean everywhere he can manage to reach.

“No more talking.” Dean manages to growl.

“One more thing.” Sam barely gasps out.

All Sam hears in response is a loud growl from Dean, vibrating and rumbling through his chest.

“It’s gotta be just me from now on.  I couldn’t stand it otherwise.” Sam says as clearly and firmly as he can.

Dean stops moving his hips and gently grasps Sam’s face in his hands, “Yeah, okay, just you.  Same with you okay?”

Sam reaches up and holds one of Dean’s hands, squeezing it gently, “Only you Dean.”

Dean’s only answer is another deep groan. 

Sam holds Dean’s shoulders tightly and slowly grinds his hips against him, slotting their cocks into the grooves that seem meant for each other, rocking back and forth. “I wish I could see all of you, and feel you without all these clothes in the way, but there isn’t room.  I want you so much, in every way, you in me, me in you, Everything, I want it all. Waited so long. ”  

Dean grins his agreement “Yeah, me too man, me too.” He manages to walk his hands down from Sam’s waist to the button and flies on his jeans, undoing each one slowly, until just thin cotton boxers are between  his hand and Sam’s now very wet cock.  He also undoes his own, the worn denim soft, releasing the buttons easily, while he’s there, pushing down both of their jeans below their asses.  And now that barrier of cloth between them is just so thin, it might as well not be there.

“Can you get our boxers down too somehow?” Sam lifts up hopefully and Dean pulls down both of their boxers at the same time.  They gasp as their hot cocks and groins slap together finally.  And this feeling of flesh on flesh, after all these years of wanting, and being joined after such a long separation begins building up between them.  Sam feels the energy swirl and rise and he tries to grab for it in his mind as they grind together, so close now to pulling each other over the edge.  He really concentrates on grabbing hold of it, just so he can remember it for always, this all-important first time, but that concentration switches something on, deep inside him, and his latent psychic powers grasp and hold onto that energy and it pushes through him and out of him.

The pace quickens then between them, Sam reaching down between them, and barely able to hold onto both of their now-slippery cocks sliding against each other, that delicious friction building up.  Both of them wishing there was more room, more light, more air.  But they don’t need it, they’re complete with each other, nothing else needed as they both spiral up to their climax and fall together into bliss almost at the same time, Sam feels something in his mind at that tipping point, something he can feel in every single cell in his body. 

Something that says over and over in a clear ringing resonant tone:

_“Together. Complete. Open.  Out.  Free.”_

 The power is concentrated and released  and suddenly blows the top off of the box that they have been contained in, it flies up together with all the soil and grass and they can look up and see the clear blue cloudless sky. 

And then there they are.

Lying together in the open air the bright sunshine blanketing them from above.

They blink at each other and slowly sit up to get out of the box buried in the ground.  _Call it a grave_ Dean thinks to himself.  Amazed that he’s about to be climbing out of yet another one.

They help each other up and pat each other softly checking one another like their father taught them so many years ago.  Kissing gently once more, which he sure as hell did not teach them.  They do up their messed-up pants, wipe off their sticky hands on the wooden remains of the box, find their cell phones and climb out of the hole _(grave)._  

Both blink around at the bright sunshine, trying to figure out where they might be.  A big cleared area in a sparse forest. It looks to Dean like the spot where he came out of the ground when Cas brought him back from Hell.  “What the hell was that Sam? What did that?”  Dean asks with no little bit of fear evident in his voice.

“I, uh, pretty sure it was me.”

“Wow, now that’s a useful superpower.” Dean jokes, rolling his eyes.

Sam shoves him forcefully in response, “Guess so.  Wish I’d gotten the ability to teleport or fly or something.”

They walk through the scrubby forest slightly downhill for a while towards some buildings and what looks like a road in the distance.

 “So, why do you think you were able to do something like that all of a sudden?” Dean asks tentatively breaking the silence.

“Um, I’m not really sure, it’s been years since I moved anything with my mind, and I never did anything like that, so I figure it had something to do with all the energy between us, so much built up and I wanted to remember it and somehow it went through me and I concentrated it.”

“That going to happen every time we uh, you know, do it?” Dean asks a little bashfully.

“I don’t think so Dean, as long as we don’t let years of unconsummated desire build up again.” Sam smiles down at him.

“Don’t think that’ll be a problem little brother.  Not a chance.”  Dean manages to strut his best cock o’the walk as they make their slow way down the sparsely forested hill.

 “So where in the hell are we? Doesn’t look like Nevada to me.”

“No idea, I really don’t know. And where’s the Impala anyways.  Where’s my damned baby?”

They start walking towards the sun on the horizon, is it rising or setting, they don’t really know, but they’re on their way together. Dean’s got his arm around Sam’s waist, Sam’s is wrapped around Dean’s shoulders, they’re bumping hips occasionally, but so used to walking closely that it’s easy between them.   For a while they don’t talk, there doesn’t seem to be a need to, both still reeling from their sudden escape and everything that had gone before it. 

Dean can’t believe it, that he can still taste the flavor of Sam’s mouth in his own; there isn’t anything sweeter he thinks, he still is amazed that Sam is here, alive, with his soul, really with him.

 Sam can’t believe he and Dean are together, just like that, or that he got Dean to talk that much, to share himself that openly, he’s wondering if it will ever happen again and he ‘s wondering if it’s a good thing that he hasn’t seen a hint of Lucifer since they woke up in the box.

“Hey Dean?”  
“Yeah?”

“What or who do you think put us in that box?”

Dean can see that Sam’s got his thinking face on, and he’s right, they need to figure this out, because something powerful enough to trap them like that needs to get sorted out as quickly as they can manage it, “Pretty short list of potential suspects, ability to transport us, alter our memories, physically bury us.  Angels is the one I keep coming back to.”

“Yeah, me too.  But who, and why?”  Sam’s trying to remember if there are any angels they’ve encountered that are still alive, maybe they’ve forgotten about someone.

“Don’t know, couldn’t be Cas since he’s gone, and from what he said he’d wiped out a lot of angels during the whole civil war thing.  Who’s left that we know?”

“Maybe Balthazar?  I don’t know if Cas figured out he was double-agenting him or not, or what he would have done to him. When was the last time we saw him?”  Sam asks, thinking about his memories of his soul-less self summoning Balthazar and attempting to kill Bobby even though he tries to think of anything else besides that.

“He came to see us when you were out for the count in the panic room, running around with yourself in your head.  He gave us the location of where Cas and Crowley were doing the Purgatory spell.  Oh yeah and he called you Sleeping Beauty and asked me if I’d stolen any kisses.”  Dean sniggers at the memory.  Sam laughs so suddenly and completely, he has to stop walking and bend over, he’s laughing so hard.

“What’s so damned funny all of a sudden?” Dean asks, a little pissed off not to be in on the joke, hoping that Sam isn’t suddenly hysterical because of what they’ve done.

Sam gasps a little, trying to stop his laughing enough so he can talk, “Just struck me as weird that even an angel knew about us before we figured it out for ourselves.”

Dean chuckles, “Yeah, guess we should have listened to all those people over the years who thought we were a couple.”

“Guess so, at least we got it eventually even if it took being buried in a box together.”

“True. As strange as it sounds, I’m kind of glad we were stuck in that box. Glad as hell we got out, of course.  But if it hadn’t happened, who knows when we would have figured it out.  Glad it worked.”

“Me too.” Sam pulls Dean in a little tighter, making both of them stumble just a bit.

“So maybe Balthazar tricked Cas and us and is still somehow around and fucking with us?”

“Maybe, should we try that angel summoning thing?  It only works if you know the angel’s name, and his is the only one that we know who’s possibly still alive.  Otherwise I’m fresh outta ideas.”

“Yeah let’s do it, I’d love to talk to the smarmy bastard. We owe him a debt.” Dean says matter-of-factly, assuming Sam knows what he’s talking about.

“Owe him for what?”

“Well, for helping us try to stop Cas, but if he stuck us in that box, we owe him for this.”  Dean gestures between them, at their closeness, at their togetherness.

“How can we ever thank him enough?” Sam knows it’s a completely sappy thing to say, but he figures Dean will allow this kind of talk for a little while longer.

Dean leans up to kiss Sam on the cheek in answer, too embarrassed to say anything, and spots the Impala down the road, “There she is, thank God!”

“You’ve got to come up with another expression.”

“Yeah I know, I’m still working on it, long lived habits are hard to change you know?”

Dean opens the passenger door for Sam and closes it after Sam gets in.  Sam hits him upside the head when he slides into the driver’s seat.  “I’m not a damned girl Dean, you don’t have to do shit like that.  Long lived habits my ass!”

“Aww, Samantha, c’mon, you’re my best girl, just trying to treat you right.”

Sam punches him in the shoulder, hard, “Well cut it the hell out would you?”

Dean rubs at the spot that Sam just demolished, “Sheesh, okay, whatever princess, just thought you’d appreciate it, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to overreact.  I just don’t want this new part of us to change everything else you know?”

“Yeah, you’re right Sammy, do-over?” Dean asks with that ten year old voice that always gets right to Sam.

Sam leans over to kiss Dean with the now-familiar unrestrained passion Dean’s quickly getting used to.  “Mmmm, no problem, you can have as many do-overs as you need Dean.”

The Impala starts up with a familiar roar and gets them to a motel pretty quickly, turns out they’re not in Sparks, Nevada any more, but in South Lake Tahoe, California.  They’re both hungry so they get some pizza delivered and dig through their supplies for what they need for the angel summoning.  They find they have almost everything, but need to get a few things tomorrow.  Sam is buried in the journal, all his attention on trying to find the exact wording of the spell that they’d written down someplace.

“I’m gonna take a shower now” Dean says, a little shyness in his voice which Sam immediately notices.  He lets Dean get into the shower before he joins him in the bathroom, asking him through the curtain, heart in his throat, hoping he gets the answer he wants, “Want a little company?”  

Dean is silent for a second, his whistling tune stopping abruptly.   “Yeah, get in here,” Dean says roughly.  Sam gets his clothes off in record time and steps into the tub. 

“Wow.”  Sam can’t help himself saying when he sees Dean, wet under the shower, droplets hanging on his ridiculously long eyelashes, skin flushed a beautiful pink, gorgeous cock thickening under his gaze.  They both can’t stop looking their fill, this is the first time they’ve seen each other completely naked with the intent to do something about it. 

“Wow yourself.” Dean answers with a slow, one-sided grin changing his face as the desire he can’t possibly stop floods him with need and want.  They crash together just this side of violent, their sudden clumsiness turning into a heated pulling, pushing together of their now slick bodies under the hot spray of water. 

Dean can’t believe how good this is, and pushes Sam up against the tiles, slotting themselves together like they’ve been doing it for years already.  Relishing the hot water making them slip and slide together with such a smooth glide.  It’s so good he can’t stop himself when the words escape him, “Sam, you’re it for me.  You and me, that’s all I want.  All I ever wanted. This. Us.  Together, is our normal.  You learn how to make me pie and I’ll be the happiest man in the world. Love you so much Sammy.” Dean pants and somehow forces out the words as he pumps his hips into Sam, that delicious friction building and building, and he’s not going to think about what a girl he’s sounding like, he’s not, because this is Sam, and this is important, and this is everything to him 

Sam can barely contain his joy at hearing his brother’s words, that he’s still talking to him like this, so open and honest and true.  He responds by pulling Dean in even tighter, trying to get the angle just right until it suddenly is. “Dean, oh god so good. I love you too, so much, never stopped, you’re it for me too, you always have been.  I swear we’re gonna be happy together, and I promise I’m never leaving you.  Ever again.”  Sam manages to grit out as they thrust and grind and push and pull each other as their desire and love winds and swirls through them and around them both.   It’s not as explosive as the first time as it was when they were trapped in the box, but its close, the bathroom door blows off its hinges and the mirror cracks. 

“Guess we’re getting a little better at this, the roof didn’t blow off this time.” Sam notes as they dry off with the small worn motel towels.

“Gonna take a lot of practice to get it just right Sammy.”  Dean’s hands can’t leave Sam’s skin for long, he pulls him out towards the bed, tucking him in and rolling over him to land on the other side. 

“I don’t mind the idea of that at all, the more practice the better.”  They rearrange themselves and find they fit together as well as they did in the box. 

Neither of them wants to fall asleep just yet, honestly neither of them want this day to ever end.  So they lie there together quietly, just gently stroking each other, reveling in this new simple pleasure, lying in a bed naked, clean, happy, sated, with the one person in the whole world that they love more than anything.

“Hey Dean?” Sam whispers into Dean’s neck.

“Yeah, what Sammy?”  Dean hesitates, not sure he wants yet another conversation today, but just like always, not able to resist that little brother whisper.

“Thanks.” Sam says with a firmness that surprises Dean so that he can’t speak for awhile.  What is Sam thanking him for now?  At least he isn’t apologizing anymore or calling himself a burden.

“Thanks for what?” Dean’s hand rubs his brother’s back slowly.

“Everything.”  Sam says slowly as he falls asleep. 

Dean smiles and says softly pulling Sam in closer, “You’re welcome.”

~*~*~*~*~

Dean wakes up first the next morning and he spends a few minutes just memorizing how his brother looks close-up like this, he hasn’t seen him look this relaxed and happy in a very long time.  So young and untroubled, and so very beautiful.  He sighs happily because he maybe feels like the luckiest man alive.  Or maybe the luckiest girl in the world, given how he’s been acting since they started talking in that damn box in the ground.  Sam doesn’t seem to mind though, because just look at him lying there all peaceful like he should be.  Dean sighs again, this time even more happily.  Since their faces are so close together that second louder sigh is enough to wake Sam up from his tranquil sleep.  Immediately Sam is searching Dean’s face as if he’s somehow surprised, smiling softly.

“Hi.” Sam caresses Dean’s cheek.

“Hi.” Dean leans into Sam’s caress.

“Huh, you’re still here.” Sam says, trying not to sound as surprised as he is.

“Yup.  Where’d you think I’d be?”  Dean is momentarily worried that he’s not doing what Sam expected, he’s not sure what the new rules are with everything so completely changed between them.

“Off someplace freaking out.”  Sam immediately knows that he couldn’t be more wrong in what he’d been assuming Dean’s reaction would be.  A huge grin dawns on his face.

“Nope, not me.  I’m good.”  Dean returns his grin.

“Good, me too.” 

Dean swallows up the last of Sam’s words with his own lips, sealing them together, morning breath and all.  The sweetness of Sam’s taste still comes through and he thrills to realize that he recognizes it now, a taste he’ll never forget.  Never ever give up.

Sam moves up and over Dean, covering him completely with his body, bracing himself above Dean with his hands cradling Dean’s head, turning it just so to deepen the kiss.  Both of them are making noises, serious happy noises, but no one is talking this time, nobody is asking questions, or being the least bit hesitant.  Dean’s hands are roaming up and down Sam’s back, he’s reveling in the feeling of the strong muscles that bunch and flex as Sam moves.  He brings his hands down to the perfect curve of Sam’s ass, kneading and pressing into the powerful rounded glutes that he’s been admiring all these years, amazed that it’s finally his turn to hold them, to do this, to feel what and where he wants on his brother. 

He looks up at Sam, realizing that they’d told each other only yesterday that they wanted everything from each other, to try everything together.  Dean internally gulps in a little bit of fear that he won’t be good enough for Sam. But squashes that down when he hears the pleased moans his brother is voicing as Dean gropes Sam’s ass, pulling his cheeks apart and petting gently up and down his crack, rubbing softly near his hole.  He grins at the thought that there’s nothing stopping him in taking what he wants.  And Sam seems to be into it, going near crazy when Dean puts one tip of his finger inside Sam, rubbing up against Dean furiously, tongue-fucking him deeper and deeper until Dean can barely breathe.  Dean flips them over, Sam going easily, without any protest at all, opening his legs automatically so that Dean can settle between them as natural as breathing.

Dean kisses him thoroughly and completely, reluctantly leaving Sam breathless and red-faced on the bed, to dash into the bathroom to grab the lotion bottle.  He walks back in to the bedroom, smoothing himself with a handful of the heavily floral scented stuff and stops in his tracks at the sight of Sam stretched out wantonly on the bed.  He’s locked eyes on Dean as he rubs himself in time to Dean’s strokes, his cock hard, jutting out, looking oh so ready.  Dean’s surprised to find his mouth watering at the thought of Sam’s cock filling his mouth.  Sure he’s given his share of blow jobs over the years, but it wasn’t ever something he’d gotten into, but this is Sam.  And he’s beautiful, and perfect, and just what Dean’s always wanted to have, to take, to taste, to possess. 

He drops the lotion on the bed next to Sam and knees up between Sam’s legs, spreading them even wider, sliding his hands over onto Sam’s sharp hipbones, caressing him gently.  He checks one last time, because this is it, it will count as “real sex” in his mind if he does this, he takes the time to read his brother’s face; carefully searching to see if there’s any hesitation or revulsion there, but no, of course not, they both want this.  Sam sees his slight hesitation and smiles at him and raises one eyebrow as if to say “let’s get to getting here.”  Dean smiles back at Sam and waggles his eyebrows, dipping down to breathe over the length of his brother’s hardness.  Sam groans and thrusts his hips in small movements in response.  Dean hums in happiness as he takes the tip of his brother’s cock into his mouth.  He feels Sam’s reaction and hums even louder, knowing that the vibration will be driving Sam wild. 

Sam’s up on his elbows, watching Dean’s mouth taking him in almost all the way down, eyes closed, long lashes brushing his cheeks and those lips so reddened and puffy now.  Sam wants to start talking, spilling filthy dirty things about Dean’s mouth but he stops himself and lets himself listen instead to the messy  wet slurping sounds of what Dean is doing to him.  He reaches out with one hand to run it through Dean’s hair, pulling up a bit to let him know he’s close.  That’s still the right way to do it he hopes, to signal your partner before dumping your load down their throat. 

Dean’s response is to take Sam even further down his throat, luckily recalling the deep throat trick he’d learned of swallowing deeply around the tip which is the thing that puts Sam over the edge.  Sam loses himself somewhere in-between coming down Dean’s throat and flopping back down to the bed with his arm over his eyes. 

A true momentary loss of awareness. 

The next thing Sam knows he feels Dean’s breath on the side of his face and feels the rhythm of him stroking himself over his hip.  Sam manages to get his hand over Dean’s, tightening their grip on Dean’s cock, a few more strokes is all it takes and then Dean’s coming hot and wet over their joined hands.  Dean collapses with a happy sigh next to Sam, wiping his hand clean on Sam’s stomach.

“Ew, c’mon Dean.”  Sam wipes himself off with a corner of the sheet and meets Dean’s amused smirk with a mild bitchface.

And just like that Dean realizes how much he loves it that they can still do this, tease each other like they always have, even if it’s about something as intimate as whose come ends up where after sex, “Better get used to it Sammy, there’s a lot more where that came from.”

“You are gross my brother.  You always have been, and I guess you always will be.”  Sam pronounces, resigned to the fact that no matter how gross Dean really is, they both know he loves him anyways.

“You’re stuck with me now though.”  Dean preens, rubbing his hand back over Sam’s mostly clean stomach.

Sam wrinkles his nose at the thought of being stuck to the sheets, “Ha-ha, definitely stuck if we don’t get cleaned up.”

And so then they’re getting washed up, doing their normal morning routines, dancing around each other like usual in the bathroom, but with a difference.  They’re not making a point to stay far enough apart to make sure they don’t touch like they’re used to doing.  Sam notices it first when Dean is reaching around him from behind for his razor as he’s brushing his teeth, Dean is completely pressed up against his back with one hand gently on Sam’s shoulder.  And it feels good to be able to just lean back slightly into the touch instead of squawking about personal space.  Their eyes meet in the mirror and Sam can see that Dean has noticed too, they acknowledge it with small smiles that convey everything they need to without words. 

Yeah, it is nice being like this, easy with each other, comfortable, close, natural.  Sam thinks about all the time and energy he’s spent over the last 7 years trying to bottle all of that up and keep it hidden from Dean.  Just thinking about the whole thing makes him really happy all of a sudden that they’ve actually gotten here, together, finally. Sam finishes brushing his teeth and turns around slowly so that they’re face to face and kisses Dean softly before he has a chance to start shaving off the spicy scented shaving cream he’s already put on his face.  He’s almost successful, but neither of them minds terribly much that Sam ends up with more of it on him than Dean by the time they’re done.

Breakfast is where they first try to act “normal” in public.  Sam keeps Dean’s knee trapped between his almost the whole time.  And Dean reaches for Sam’s hand across the table just because he can.  It turns out that it’s distracting, having this new freedom with each other.  The tension finally breaks when Dean’s coffee cup gets knocked over onto his plate of pancakes when Sam decides he had to reach across the table to touch Dean’s face. 

“Maybe we should get takeout for lunch.” Sam laughs.

“Might have a better chance of actually eating some of it instead of wearing it.” Dean grumbles as he tries to salvage the remainder of his now-soggy breakfast.

~~~~~~~~

Their next stop is the butcher’s counter in a pricey grocery store for lamb’s blood, it’s lucky they’ve ended up in South Lake Tahoe, smaller towns in the area wouldn’t have had fresh lamb for sale. As it is they have to buy about ten pounds of freshly butchered lamb in order to get enough blood.  The butcher is confused that they don’t want the portions he had that had been hanging for a week as was normally done. 

“We like it fresh,” is all Dean can come up with to explain.  Sam rolls his eyes thinking about how bizarre they must seem to the man behind the counter.

As they walk off Dean gripes, “I wish we had a barbeque back at the motel, seems like a shame to throw all this meat away.”

“We’re going to be a little busy remember? Summoning angels and all?” Sam reminds him with an added hip check that sends Dean stumbling.

Dean pushes back at Sam trying to unbalance him, “Yeah, yeah, but I just hate wasting food.”

To get Dean to stop retaliating, Sam grabs him around the waist pulling him in close as they keep walking, “Maybe we can find a stray dog by the motel or something, how about that?”

“’kay but no stealing its bones, we got the ones we need for the spell now.” Dean gives Sam one of those mischievous grins that ask if he’s gone far enough to rate an ‘ew’ reaction yet.

~~~~~~~

Back in the motel, they move the furniture out of the way and make the markings with some of the blood on the old orange carpet.  “Wonder how much they’ll charge us to clean this up?” Sam wonders.

“It won’t be cheap, but hey it’s not really our money right?”

 At this point they don’t really care, finding out who had trapped them is way more important than any carpet or charge on a stolen credit card. 

Sam catches Dean’s eye as he puts the container of lamb’s blood down next to the ritual bowl. “You ready?”

Trying to look as confident as possible, Dean answers, “Yeah, let’s do this.”

Sam speaks the words he’s memorized as Dean mixes the lamb’s blood into the other ingredients in the bowl, both hoping that it works.  Nothing happens and they look at each other, eyebrows raised, shoulders starting to shrug in sync, and then they hear the heavy fluttering of wings and Balthazar appears between the bed and the window.

“Well, color me surprised, you mudfish figured it out.” He drawls out in his heavy affected Euro trash accent.

“Why’d you do it Balthazar?” Dean asks, trying not to get offended by his mightier-than-thou attitude right off the bat, after all, he owes this angel a huge debt.

“Couldn’t leave things like that, I thought Cas would have wanted me to clean up after him, especially fixing you Sam”. Balthazar answers airily, as if it doesn’t matter at all to him.

“Well, uh, thanks.” Sam says, remembering with an internal wince, his soul-less self’s dealings with Balthazar.

“So you two finally figured out that the power of true love’s first kiss isn’t just a made-up fairytale story.  It worked for you, just like I knew it would.  Well, my job here is done, hope we never see each other again.” Balthazar waves at them in an offhand dismissive gesture.

“Wait, what happened to Cas, do you know? And how can we defeat the Leviathans? Can you at least tell us before you go?”  Sam demands, managing to sound somewhat placating and humble.

“Alright fine, fine.  But I’ve got a mansion filled with party people waiting for me, let’s make this quick. Cas is gone, he’s been restored by God, taken back up to Heaven’s Guantanamo for re-training.  He won’t ever be coming back to Earth, and by the time they’re done with him, he won’t remember his time with you or what he learned and did in your company.” 

Dean and Sam look at each other, both stunned, Dean comments sadly, sounding a little shaken, “So he’s just gone, just like that.  Well at least he’s not dead, that’s something I guess. How did you survive anyways, thought Cas would have figured out you’d double-crossed him.”

“Hah, fucking hah.  Yes he did.  He actually killed me.  Hurt like a son-of-a-bitch too.”

“Well, then how the hell are you standing here talking to us?” Dean’s voice is angry, he’s feeling bad about what happened with Cas and worried that Balthazar is going to take off before he helps them.

“Well, seems I’m taking Cas’s place as the resurrect-until-he-gets-it-right guy.  Not that I’m happy about it, let me tell you, because I have no freaking idea what lesson God is trying to teach here.  Eventually I’ll figure it out I suppose.  I’ve got eternity and all that, but first you’ve got some work to do, now that you’re out of that box.”

“Wait, let me guess you’re gonna tell us we’re on a mission from God now or something?” Dean scoffs.

Balthazar of course gets the pop culture reference that Cas would have missed completely, and answers with a sneer, “Something like that, more like a mission **_to_** God.  You’ve got to put the Leviathans back where they belong.”

“ ** _We_** do? How is that something we can accomplish when even juiced up Cas couldn’t do it?” Sam asks forcefully, because he can’t think of any way possible that they could be helpful in this situation.

“You’re much more resourceful than you think.” Balthazar pronounces as if it is somewhat painful for him to admit.

“I don’t think so Balthazar, we’re done trying to clean up after Cas. You do it.” Dean crosses his arms defiantly.

“Not in my current job description I’m afraid, and there aren’t any other angels around that are interested in taking it on.  So it’s on you.  I’ve got to undo everything around all the false believers that Castiel as the new God created.  The Leviathans are another sort of issue altogether.  You know they’re older than we angels, and they’ve been locked away from everything and everyone in Purgatory for longer than you two can even conceive.  So none of us that are left really know much about them.  Honestly, you know as much as we angels do at this point.”

“Like I believe that one, try again.”

“Dean, I’m not lying here. But God’s going to be the go-to guy on this one I’m afraid, and nobody but Joshua has talked to him in eons.  Your best bet is using that finding charm that Cas was trying to use.  He said he gave it back to you Dean, you still have it right?”

Dean and Sam look at each other again, both stricken.  Sam with sadness, Dean with guilt.

“Oh no, come on, tell me you didn’t manage to lose something that useful.” Balthazar scolds incredulously.

“No, uh, I threw it away actually.”  Dean mutters, sounding so ashamed.

“Why am I not surprised that I’m not at all surprised.  Dean Winchester continually screwing up on the important plot points since 1979.”

“Hey!” Dean shouts, trying to stop Balthazar from any further insults.

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but, uh, I have it.” Sam says quietly.

Dean turns to look at him and asks incredulously, “What do you mean you have it? How could you?”

Sam looks at Dean, taking in the hardness of his face, how he’s set it against this haunting pain they both know the amulet represents, he says quickly, “Found it in my old duffle bag, the one you kept for me in the Impala while I was in the Cage.   It was right where I’d stashed it the night you threw it away.  Guess it’s been there ever since.”

Dean’s eyes shutter, his walls falling back down, cutting himself off as completely as possible, “Why didn’t you tell me Sam?”

“I didn’t think you’d want it back right away, and I couldn’t take that, not with everything that was going on at the time, and after I got my soul back, well, I still wasn’t sure you wanted it back.”  Sam answers as gently as he can, hoping his forgiveness is apparent in his voice, since Dean won’t look at him to see it written on his face.

“Gentlemen, as much as this telenovela conversation is oh so very intriguing, I must depart, places to go, cocktails to serve, you know how it is.   The amulet will work for you, it wasn’t meant to be wielded by angels.  You’ve just got to find the companion to it, then together they’ll do the job.   Good luck with the God finding and the Leviathan vanquishing.  Hope we never ever meet again.” He smiles at both of them and they hear the familiar flutter of heavy wings and Balthazar is gone, leaving them alone.

Sam looks over at Dean who seems to have drawn in on himself, he can’t see his face, but he can tell by the body language that he wants to be left alone.  He sits down on the bed across from him anyways, waiting to see what Dean will do or say next, prepared for anything, not sure if he should be ready to run or defend himself.

“Can I see it?” Dean asks abruptly, not meeting Sam’s eyes at all.

“Yeah, sure, of course.”  Sam gets up from his bed, moves quickly to his duffle rummaging around in its depths until he comes up with a small bundle which he unwraps.  He crosses back over to where Dean is standing, putting the amulet in his hand, and sits back on the bed, waiting to see what Dean will do now that he holds the representation of Sam choosing Dean as his everything all those years ago.

To Dean it represents everything he’s fought for their whole lives together, just sitting there gleaming softly in his hand, rebuking him silently for his stupidity.

“Huh, seems smaller than I remember it being.” Dean sinks down to sit on the bed next to Sam, as if weighed down by the tiny amulet he’s holding in his hand.  He’s trying hard not to break under the weight of his guilt when he remembers the day he threw it away, trying not to beg his brother for forgiveness, trying not to beg Sam to give it back to him, trying not to rage at his brother for not telling him that he had it all this time. 

Sam is watching him closely, seeing all of this warring visibly on his brother’s face.  “It’s been awhile since you’ve seen it.” Sam says quietly.

“True.  So how do you think it works?” Dean tries to go for a non-confrontational, removed question, just to see if it works, if it will postpone him having to think or talk about one of his life’s biggest failures and regrets.

 _So we’re not talking about this_ Sam thinks to himself, he understands it, but he’s got to give it to Dean, still King Champion of Denial, he tries to match Dean’s impassive light tone, “Not sure, do you remember how Cas was using it?”

Dean shakes his head, “He never showed me, I have no idea.  Bobby gave it to you originally right?”

“Yeah he did, it was a long time ago though, hope he remembers something to help us find the companion amulet.  Guess we ought to call him.” Sam starts to move towards the table where his cell phone is, but thinks better of it, wanting to stay at Dean’s side until this is over.

Dean notices Sam’s aborted movement of course and is both relieved and pissed that Sam’s right there still in his space, “We kind of have to call him anyways and tell him what’s going on with your powers and what Balthazar told us about the Leviathans and all.”

Dean stands up abruptly, and turns towards the door.  _Maybe I should walk out that door before I start begging_ , he thinks.  Maybe he just needs to get away from this moment and the heaviness between them, it’s too much.  After a pause that goes on too long, he reaches his hand out to Sam with the amulet dangling, trying to give it back.  But instead of taking the offered necklace, Sam surprises him by merely wrapping his own hand around Dean’s, enclosing the cold metal within their now-clenched warm hands. 

“Keep it.  It was always yours.” Sam looks up at his big brother, trying to reassure him with his eyes that he means what he’s saying, that he doesn’t expect him to do or say anything to get it back.

Dean gulps loudly, deep emotion changing his whole face into something indescribably beautiful. “Okay. Thanks Sam.”

Sam lets go of Dean’s hand, stands up and quickly envelops Dean into a hug, feeling him resist at first and then melting against him.  He pulls back, takes the amulet out of Dean’s clenched fist and puts it gently over his head.  “There, now you finally look right again.”

Dean smiles up at him, with one of those full-watt-knock-you-on-your-ass-with-its-brilliance-smiles, his eyes suspiciously wet with unshed tears.  “Thanks Sammy.” He leans up to capture Sam’s lips against his, pouring his apology, his regret, his acceptance of Sam’s forgiveness into this kiss that ends up meaning more to him than all the other ones they’ve shared so far.

They break apart slowly, reluctant to let go of each other, not wanting to let go of this blissful feeling of grace between them.   Sam is still holding him loosely, hands gently stroking the sides of his neck, rubbing over the amulet’s silky worn leather.  “So now it’s our turn to try to find God, this should be interesting.”

“No kidding, nothing like a to-do list huh?  And Balthazar said he fixed you, do you feel any different?”

“Yeah I do, it’s hard to explain but I know the Hell memories are there, but it’s like they’re locked away and put on a high-up shelf, not right up in the front of my mind.  I don’t know about the powers thing though.”

“Thank God, guess I can say that again, now that we’re looking for Him.  That’s kinda amazing Sam, I hope it really worked for good.   So go ahead try it out and see if you have any of your powers, see if there’s anything there still.”

Sam lets go of Dean and sits back down on the bed.  He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, makes a screwed-up pained face and then relaxes.  “Nope nothin’.  Guess maybe I have to be in a more intense emotional situation.”

Dean barks out a self-deprecating laugh, “Huh, this wasn’t enough for you?   Well if we need to create one of those, give me a heads up ok?”

Sam rolls his eyes, smiling fondly, “Sure, of course.”

Flopping down to lie on the bed next to Sam, Dean asks, “Hey Sammy?”

“Yeah?” Sam turns to look down at Dean, who’s got his faced turned away towards the window.

“You know that vision thing you were telling me about, back when we were stuck in the box?” Dean asks a little too quietly.

Sam reaches out to touch Dean’s waist, wanting his hands on Dean as they talk about this, because it’s important, to both of them, “Uh, yeah, what about it?”

“When was it gonna happen do you think?” Dean asks, trying to keep the worry out of his voice and not succeeding.

“Well, like I said, we were both a lot older, I think at least ten years.” Sam answers, caressing up and down Dean’s side, trying to remember the details of his vision.

Dean turns over suddenly, looking up at Sam, “Huh.”

Sam tilts his head to the side in question, stilling his hand on Dean’s stomach, “Why are you asking Dean?”

“Just thinking about what we’ll be doing for the next ten years, and how it will work out that we end up with a house somehow.  I’m not seeing how that works out.”  Dean looks at Sam closely; to see if he’s feeling worried about the future at all like he is.

Reading Dean’s worry instantly, Sam tries to soothe his brother’s fear with his response, “Me either, there wasn’t a lot to go on in the vision to explain how we got there.  It wasn’t like a fancy, expensive house, so I guess it wouldn’t take too much money.  But definitely out of our price range with how we live now.”

Trapping Sam’s circling hand on his belly and squeezing it hard to emphasize his point, Dean finally lets his real worry out, “Hard to see how we get from here to there.  Hey, after we stop the Leviathans you still wanna keep hunting?”

Sam’s instantly lost, _is this really his brother asking this question_?  “Sure, of course.  What else would we do?”

“I don’t know, just thought I’d ask, thought maybe after having this vision you’d want to change things.” Dean tries for nonchalant and misses entirely; he knows he’s given himself away.

“What? We haven’t changed things enough for you?”  Sam gestures with his hand between them, indicating their new physical relationship and everything else that’s changed along with it.

“No, not that, that’s plenty of change for a while.  But I’m thinking I don’t want to risk losing you anymore now that…” Dean trails off, not sure how to finish his thought without sounding like a romance novel heroine.  Shifting uncomfortably on the bed, too close to his brother sitting tucked in next to him, but enjoying having Sam’s hand still a comforting weight on his lower stomach. He stops himself from anymore squirming, just lying there wishing that all this talking would come to an end.

“Now that what Dean?”  Sam asks gently, knowing that something is making it hard for Dean to get out his question, probably his hesitation to break the no-chick-flick moments rule yet again.

“Now that we’re together like this.” Dean states with a subdued determination, not meeting Sam’s eyes.

Sam’s stunned into silence.  He’d never thought his brother would ever say something like that, much less even think it.  He turns halfway towards Dean and puts his hand on his arm to stop him from trying to get away, “Listen, I appreciate what you’re saying, I really do, and I don’t want to risk you either, especially not now.  But we can’t let this change everything about our lives.”

Sitting up abruptly, shrugging off Sam’s hand, Dean asks loudly, “Why the hell not?”

Sam puts his hands out in a placating gesture, “Dean, it’s not just what we do, it’s who we are, we’re hunters.   You want to give up your life’s work just because we’re finally together?”

Dean swings his legs over the side of the bed, standing up quickly, “Yeah Sam, yeah I do, I really do.”

Looking up in surprise at his brother, Sam stammers out, “Wow, I didn’t think that…”

“Didn’t think what?” Dean looks down into Sam’s face and sees the surprise and his heart falls somewhere around the vicinity of the soles of his feet.

Sam mumbles, “I guess I didn’t think that it would mean that much to you.”

“Well fuck-you-very-much!  Of course it does, of course you do!” Dean yells and gestures wildly with his hands, trying and failing not to show how angry he is with Sam right now.

Sam grabs for one of Dean’s still swinging hands, and pulls him around so he can see his face, “Alright, alright, calm down.  That didn’t come out right, what I said, I’m sorry.  I just, I didn’t really understand how deep this goes for you.  I’m there with you, believe me.  But we can’t just stop, what we do matters, we save people.”

“Yeah but you matter more.” Dean jabs Sam in the chest, hard, with one pointed finger, emphasizing the “ ** _you_** ”.

Sam grabs for the hand that’s jabbing at him and holds on tight, tugging Dean to stay near him, “Dean. God! You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that.  But c’mon haven’t we always felt that way about each other?  I know I have.  So what’s really changed?”

“How stupid are you anyways Sam, what’s changed? Everything, that’s what’s changed!  At least it has for me.  Guess not for you. That’s just great. I knew it.”  Dean shakes off both of Sam’s hands and stalks away from the bed towards the door, finally turning his back on his brother; he can’t deal with this anymore.

“Knew what?” Sam asks quietly, terrified in a deep-down visceral way that this is maybe his last chance with Dean, either they get through this, or it all ends up in useless, sharp smithereens.

“Knew that this wasn’t going to work, we shouldn’t have done this.”  Dean’s got his hand on the doorknob, and he’s ready to walk out, just for a while, he feels this deep need to get away, make this pain stop, try to cover over the openings in his heart.  It’s all too much at once, it feels too raw and uncertain and Damnit _, Sam knows he can’t deal with emotions like this_.

Sam leaps up off the bed and is at Dean’s back in a flash, both hands on his shoulders, forcibly turning him around, “Oh come on! Where the hell do you think you’re going? Dean, you can’t give up just like that, we’ve barely started anything.  We’ve gotta work this out, it’s too important to just blow off.”

“I’m not blowing off anything Sam, you are.  I just told you I don’t want to risk you anymore, and you’re pretty much telling me you don’t care.”  Dean tries to push off Sam’s hands on his shoulders, but Sam’s not budging, so he shoves them in his pockets, trying to close himself off from this emotional barrage.

Sam sees Dean’s walls coming up, so he rubs his hands up onto Dean’s neck, caressing in the spots he’s recently discovered drive Dean crazy, he softens his voice, hoping that it will cut through Dean’s defenses, “Oh I care alright, of course I do.  Dean I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.  I don’t even want to think about it.”

Leaning his head towards one of Sam’s caressing hands, Dean sighs, “Well, I have, a lot.  I had more than a year to do that, when you were gone and let’s just say if you hadn’t made me promise to go to Lisa and try to live a normal life, well I probably wouldn’t be here talking to you right now and your soul would still be in the damn Cage.”

Sam’s hands stop moving and press in firmly to the sides of Dean’s neck, “Are you saying that you would have what? Killed yourself or something?”

“Probably not on purpose, but yeah, it wouldn’t have taken long to get sloppy, not with the way I was drinking, especially if I’d kept hunting on my own. And Sam, that was before, all of this even happened.”  Dean gestures between them, meaning the sex, the declarations of love, everything that happened in the box and afterwards.  It’s almost a physical pain to say the words, but he quietly admits, “I can’t even imagine what would happen to me now.”

Sam can’t answer for a while, and pulls Dean into him for a hug, molding himself to his brother’s body. He thinks back to the times he was without Dean and how messed up he got, those first few awful months at Stanford where he could barely breathe for being so alone.  Or in Florida when Gabriel tried to teach him a lesson for all those Tuesdays and the six months after the Wednesday when Dean was shot, how robotic and terrifying he got, single-mindedly hunting, obsessed with getting Dean back.  And that doesn’t even compare to when Dean was lost to Hell for those long four months and he fell into Ruby’s arms and plans and almost screwed up the whole damn world.  And that was all before everything’s been changed with the new dimension added to their relationship. 

Pulling back from the hug, Sam looks down into Dean’s upturned, stricken face, “You’re right.”

Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise, “I am?”

“Yeah, you’re right, it won’t work anymore, us hunting, if something happened to you…well, I don’t want to, no, **I can’t ever** be like that again.”  Sam shakes his head and looks over Dean’s shoulder out the window.

Dean leans up and speaks quietly into Sam’s ear, making him shiver, and “Be like what Sam?”

Before he answers, Sam lets go of Dean and turns away, sitting down heavily on the nearest bed, dropping his head, dangling his hands loosely between his legs.  “I, uh never told you this, remember Florida, the Trickster, Gabriel?”

Dean pushes off the door where he was leaning and walks towards Sam, stopping next to him and running a hand through the soft, wavy hair at the base of Sam’s neck.“Yeah sure, you told me about the 100 Tuesdays seeing me die every day, what about it?”

“I never told you about the one Wednesday where you died, for good.” Sam says in a deadly even monotone.

Sitting down right next to his brother, Dean asks, “Wait, I’m confused, a Wednesday where I died?”

Sam’s still focusing on something intensely interesting on the floor, and continues in the flat, toneless voice, “Yeah the first Wednesday after Gabriel said he’d stop the time loop, a mugger shot you in the parking lot, and you were dead.  For real.  For six months.  And I went off the deep end, really dark, really fast.  I was almost as bad as my soul-less self, even got to the point where I was willing to sacrifice Bobby to get you back.”

“Sam, why didn’t you ever tell me this?” Dean asks in a surprised, demanding voice.

Sam sinks into himself even further, drawing away from contact with Dean, “Didn’t think it would help at all if you knew that about me, knew what a monster I’d turn into without you, because your deal was coming due and everything.”

Putting his arm around Sam’s shoulders, Dean draws him close, trying to catch his eye, “I’m glad you waited ‘til now to tell me.  So you really think I’m right about quitting, after we finish the Leviathans?”

“Yeah, I do.  But what are we going to do instead?” Sam asks, assuming with that underlying little-brother-hero-worship-expectation of his big brother to of course have a plan.

Dean sits up straighter, letting go of Sam, slapping his hands on his own knees, “That I hadn’t thought about too much.  Going legit hasn’t really ever been an option or a goal for me.”

“I could see you as an EMT.” Sam offers, matter-of-factly.

Dean turns back towards Sam, drawing up his leg and bumping his knee down onto Sam’s thigh, “Really?”

With the casual weight of Dean’s leg pressing into him, reminding him that they’re really together, Sam tries to explain it so that Dean will accept the praise as well as his idea, “Yeah, you’d be good, you’ve taken care of me so many times, and you’re good under pressure, plus you’d be helping save people and it wouldn’t be too risky like being a cop.”

“Think Frank can get us good enough ID so you can go back to school?” Dean throws this out there knowing that his issues with college were always about Sam leaving him, and now that they’re together, he wants Sam to start dreaming big again.

Sam rubs at Dean’s thigh, feeling the strength and give, surprised and grateful that his brother remembers and accepts his old dreams, “Huh, that’d be awesome if he could, I wouldn’t mind trying to do law school again.”

“So we need to land someplace we can afford, where there’s a good law school, I can get a job while you get your degree and then you can support me in style when you’re a lawyer pulling in the big bucks.”  Dean’s responding to Sam’s hand rubbing on his thigh, it’s impossible not to, and he hopes by turning the conversation in a slightly silly direction,  Sam won’t notice and get mad at him for not wanting to keep talking and only wanting one thing. 

Sam stops massaging Dean’s thigh and grips hard near his knee, breaking the tension he’d felt rising in Dean, “Let me just stop you right there, I’m not going to be some big bucks lawyer, I think I’d want to be more of a public defender type. Help people, you know?”

Grabbing Sam’s hand off his knee, Dean answers, “Yeah, I figured, just giving you a hard time.  Still my job right?”

Sam squeezes their hands together, pulling them into his chest near his heart, “Oh please, never stop.”

Dean can’t help rolling his eyes at that one, “That’s my plan Sam.”

Still holding their hands together and grinning in response, Sam answers, “If you say that one more time, I swear I’ll…”

“What’ll you do, huh little brother?” Dean worms his hand out of Sam’s grasp and jabs his fingers into Sam’s sides, gearing up to tickle him until he can’t breathe.

Sam leans over and kisses him just to shut him up.  And then that’s not quite enough because Dean’s about to say something else, and Sam’s done talking, done thinking about the future, just done worrying about the whole Leviathan thing. He’s done, and Dean’s there still wanting to carry on bugging him, and Sam’s not going to put up with it.  So he keeps kissing Dean, which might just be his new favorite thing to do.  Dean’s not protesting or resisting.  At all.  Sam pushes Dean a little so he gets the message to lie back on the bed.  Sam quickly crawls up and lies down on top of him, covering him completely.

“We gonna go out and get anything done today or what?” Dean asks, before Sam can cover his lips with his own again.

Sam kisses his way down Dean’s neck instead, stopping to bite where his neck meets his shoulder. “Not planning on it, nope, got better things to do right here.”

“Like what?” Dean asks, knowing the answer, but just curious to see what the hell Sam will say.

“You need to take these clothes off. Now Dean.”

“Why Sam, I do believe that’s the most forward thing I’ve ever heard in my whole life.” Dean simpers with an affected high pitched Southern woman’s voice.

Sam stands up, towering over Dean who’s still lying on the bed, and pulls off his shirt, shooting an impatient challenging look at Dean. 

Dean sees that Sam’s got that I’ve-made-up-my-mind look that is pointless to ever try and change. And besides, who is he kidding? He’s not in any hurry to get up and go anywhere at the moment.  It’s not like they’ve got a deadline on this finding God assignment.  So he decides a little more teasing is what Sam needs, so he doesn’t do anything.  Just matches Sam’s look with a fierce, why-don’tcha-make-me look of his own.

 Sam grins when he sees this, knows instantly what Dean’s doing so he turns and stalks towards the bathroom.  “You’re gonna wanna be naked when I get back.” Sam yells over his shoulder as he closes the door.

Dean just laughs and lies there for a few long minutes, looking at the mottled ceiling, wondering whether Sam’s kidding or not.  He doesn’t remove a stitch of clothing, and when the door opens, a now very naked Sam’s eyes go flat with what looks like genuine anger.  “What? You thought I was just talking to hear my own voice?”

Dean shrugs, still lying there fully clothed. “Figured you were kidding.”

“Oh no Dean, I was very serious.  I wanted to come out here and see you spread out, hard and waiting for me.  Got myself ready and everything.  Was going to climb right on top of you, slide right on and ride you for awhile.  But I guess I’m moving too fast for you.  Maybe later.”  Sam turns to head back into the bathroom for his clothes.

His mouth goes dry at hearing his brother’s words, Dean feels himself hardening at the picture Sam just described, “Sam. No.  Now’s good, just give me a second.”  Dean sits up quickly, taking off his boots and throwing them across the room, watching as Sam stalks over to sit on the edge of the dresser, leaning back, spreading his legs and begins stroking himself slowly.    Dean stands and takes off his clothes as fast as he can, walking over to stand between Sam’s legs.  He reaches down to join his hand with Sam’s moving up and down in slow pulsing strokes from the base to the tip and back down again.  Dean lets his hand linger at the bottom and gently rolls Sam’s balls back and forth in one hand, caressing the spot just behind that is almost always too sensitive.  Sam just groans in response and thrusts up into the air fruitlessly. 

Dean keeps reaching back and feels something wet and slippery as he gets close to Sam’s hole.  “Shit you really did it?”

“Yeah, of course.  Why would I lie?” Sam reaches up and tugs on the amulet that Dean’s still wearing, pulling him in a little closer so he can bite and suck on his lower lip.

Dean can’t answer; he’s too busy pushing his finger inside Sam, discovering just how wet and open Sam’s made himself, letting out an embarrassing needy groan.  “Tell me how much you want it.”

Sam says between pleasure-filled gasps, “Don’t just want it, need it.”

Dean nods in response and pulls Sam up from the dresser by grabbing him around the waist, and brings him in close to his body so they’re touching in as many places as possible.  “Well if you need it, you’re gonna get it.”  Dean leans up to kiss Sam, and Sam responds by deepening the kiss until it’s almost too rough, their cocks are rubbing against each other and both of them are suddenly on edge. 

Sam pulls back and pushes Dean towards the bed.  “Lie down for me, put this on.”

Dean’s surprised by the foil package Sam throws down next to him. But he does as he’s asked this time, lies back, quickly rolls the condom on and strokes himself as he watches his brother walk towards him and flow over him like a wave hitting the waiting shore.  And then Sam’s on him, surrounding him, sliding down so slowly, impaling himself on Dean’s cock inch by inch until Dean can barely stand it.  Sam stops when he’s got all of Dean inside him, filled completely.  He searches Dean’s face to see if this means as much to him.  And yeah it does.  Of course. 

“Sam, I’m inside you.” Dean says in a voice filled with awe and wonder.

Sam just laughs, “I know.  Kinda how this works.”

And Sam laughing is just about the best thing Dean’s ever felt in his life, because he tightens up even more all around Dean and the vibrations from Sam’s deep laugh make everything feel that much better.  “God, when you laughed, it felt…”

“Feels good doesn’t it?” Sam laughs again, knowing how much pleasure he’s giving Dean by doing it.

And Dean doesn’t want to think about why Sam knows this, he’s not going to stress about it, or even ask, he’s going to enjoy having a partner that knows more than he does for once.  “Feels really good, what now?”

That question stops the small rocking movement Sam had started, “Wait, you’ve never done this before?” 

Dean groans, because the rhythm was feeling good, and Sam stopped, and Damnit he gave himself away.  He’s fooled around some with guys, blow jobs of course, and he’s been on the receiving end, but he’d never wanted to do the penetrating.  At some level, it had everything to do with wanting to be with Sam. And he sure as hell didn’t want Sam to know any of this. So he gives the smallest, hopefully least revealing answer possible, “No.”

Sam reaches down and caresses the side of Dean’s face gently, “Glad I could be your first Dean.”

Managing to push away the embarrassment of his newly discovered virginity, Dean meets his brother’s eyes and smiles back up at him, “Me too, Sammy.”

With that settled, Sam starts up the rocking rhythm again, slowly moving himself back and forth on Dean’s cock, enjoying the feeling of movement and penetration and togetherness.  Dean is holding back from thrusting up and into Sam, maybe he’s not sure if he’s supposed to or not.  “C’mon work with me here, give it to me.” 

Dean gives in to the urge to thrust then at hearing Sam’s encouragement, bends his legs, braces his feet and begins moving his brother up and down as he thrusts powerfully up into him, the tightness, the heat, being gripped so hard and so completely.  By Sam.  It’s almost too much and then he feels Sam change his position slightly so that he’s hitting him even deeper inside.  Sam makes a noise he hadn’t heard yet, a yell and a squeak together and then Sam gasps out in pleasure, “Oh god, right there, don’t stop, please don’t…”

Dean redoubles his efforts to keep thrusting hard and into the same place.  Sam braces one hand on Dean’s chest, and reaches his other hand down to start stripping his cock at a matching pace.  Dean can feel everything getting tighter and tighter as Sam’s climax comes roaring towards them.  “Dean.” Is all Sam can manage as he lets loose, covering Dean’s stomach.  A few more thrusts up into a now more pliant and boneless Sam is all Dean needs to join him in that lovely haze of pleasure.  Sam collapses over him and rolls off, letting Dean pull out slowly.  He can only manage to strip off and tie the condom and drop it off the side of the bed. They wrap up in each other up tightly and pull the sheet over themselves, both drifting off to sleep without saying anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean slowly awakens with the sound of Sam’s low, throaty giggle in his ears. _Wait. A giggle? From Sam?  Is this déjà vu?_  He cracks an eye open and looks around, relieved to see that they’re still in the motel room, not back in a box in the ground.  Sam’s petting his hair again, just like he had before and Dean can’t help himself from leaning into the touch, he’d forgotten how nice it is to have someone do that. 

Sam wakes up at that and stops. “Sorry, did I do it again?”

Dean thinks Sam’s giggle might be the best sound in the world, either that or the way Sam moans his name as he comes. “Yeah, it’s okay though.  Were you having the dream again?”

“Uh huh.  Same one.  Even better this time.”  Sam tries not to feel embarrassed about giggling again, and is glad Dean isn’t giving him a hard time about it.  He pulls Dean in closer and runs his hand through the short hair at the nape of his neck and tugs on the soft cord of the amulet.

Dean shivers at the exquisite feeling of having Sam’s hands on him like this, and asks, “Better how?”

Sam whispers in his ear, “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

~FIN~


End file.
